


Lullaby

by Empatheia



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-20
Updated: 2007-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Empatheia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing he can do from so far away, but it keeps him up at night anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby

"Sometimes, I think I'm too nice for this," Komui told the yellowing stacks of ancient paperwork looming over his desk.

They didn't answer, lost in their own musty thoughts.

It was four in the morning, and he was not only awake, but completely unable to sleep. Never mind the fact that he was shaking with exhaustion and haggard as a ghost. Never mind that he had not slept in so long his judgement was failing. Never mind any of that.

Lenalee was out on assignment with Kanda and Allen. Therefore, Komui could not sleep.

"What do you think?" he prodded the moldering piles, some of which he suspected of adhering to his desk under the sheer pressure of their own weight. They were taller than he was, even if he stood on the desk next to him. They were so old, they simply _had_ to have evolved souls by now.

Still no answer. Apparently, they were more concerned with their tax figures than Komui's issues.

He scowled at them and leaned back in his chair, letting his beret slide of his mussed dark hair to land quietly on the floor behind him. It didn't look like he would be sleeping tonight, either.

"Chief," said a voice from the doorway.

He leapt halfway out of his chair in ennervated fright, not having heard said door open. "What? Who's attacking? When? Why?"

"Komui!" said Reever, who was not attacking anyone. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked as disapproving as he could manage.

Komui blushed. "Er, Reever. Why are you still awake?" Unobtrusively, he retrieved his beret from the floor and replaced it neatly on his head, immediately feeling much more in control of the situation.

Reever stared at him. "I came here to ask you the same thing, Chief," he said quietly. "It's nearly dawn and you haven't slept in three days. You need to rest or we're all going to suffer for it."

He was so right, Komui knew it. Even so... Lenalee. She could be in danger, or wounded, or... he wasn't going to think it... wasn't going to... wasn't... could be _dead_.

All at once, he was wide awake all over again and deeply depressed. "I'll sleep when she comes home," he whispered, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes to stop them stinging.

"Don't be ridiculous," Reever said firmly. "She may not be home for another week, or even more. You're the leader in this place, and we need you well rested and clear-headed. Go to bed, Komui."

Komui stubbornly shook his head. "It would do no good, I can't sleep anyway."

"You haven't even tried. You haven't gone near your bedroom since she left. For the love of God, Chief, _please_."

"No." Komui turned up his nose and spun his chair around to face his desk. "I mean, look at all of this! I need to get this done some time this millenium! Since I can't sleep, what better time than now?"

Reever made a deeply frustrated sound and let the door swing shut behind him. "Chief. You haven't touched a report in hours. Do you really think I'll believe you if you try and use that as an excuse? Now stand up, you're going to bed. Whether you like it or not."

Komui giggled. "Ha! Talking at me all night isn't going to do anything, you know."

"Good thing I wasn't planning on it, then," said Reever under his breath, and in two short strides had reached the desk. Without ceremony or permission, he scooped Komui's thin frame out of the creaking old chair, adjusted him to a marginally more comfortable position and set off briskly for the sleeping quarters.

"Wh— hn— er— _Reever!_ " Komui shrieked, nonplussed.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Put me down!"

"No."

Komui fumed futilely "I can walk!"

"You won't, though, at least not in the right direction."

"...Put me down."

"No."

"Put me _down!_ "

"No."

"...Please?"

"No."

The conversation continued that way until they reached the bedroom, whereupon Komui began to feel rather... odd. Reever and he had shared a certain sort of physical relationship in the past, but he had thought that was well over.

He had _thought_ so, which implied a decision by his brain. Apparently, his less rational body had different ideas. It found the idea of curling up with Reever… not unpleasant.

Reever flopped him over onto the bed. "Are you capable of changing on your own, or are you going to make me do that too?"

"I'll do it! Either turn around or get out!"

The head of the science division turned around and whistled softly at the ceiling.

Scowling, Komui extracted himself from his stiff and unpleasantly lived-in clothing to pull on clean flannel nighties, instantly feeling much better. His resentment of Reever rose another notch. "There. I'm done. Are you happy now?"

Reever stopped whistling and turned around to inspect him for a moment. Then he shook his head and sighed deeply.

"What?" Komui snapped defensively.

"You silly git. Most people take their hats off before they go to bed, you know. The sane ones, anyway." Reever walked up to stand uncomfortably close to him before taking the bedraggled white beret off Komui's head. "And these, too." His large hands — approximately thirty-seven percent larger than Komui's, he'd measured them once — brushed against Komui's ears as he gently removed the eyepiece practically adhered to his nose.

Then he set both hat and spectacles on the nightstand and gestured to the tidy four-poster. "Go on then."

"Must I?" Komui asked pathetically. "I don't feel the least bit tired."

"That's because you're wound up tighter than a clock spring. Here, sit down."

Eyeing Reever apprehensively, Komui did as he was told. The enormous feather comforter reached up to swallow him nearly to the waist.

Reever sat down next to him and turned to face Komui. "Relax, I'm not going to do anything debauched. I'm just going to untangle your neck."

"You're going to what?"

Instead of answering, Reever buried his strong fingers in the rigid ropy knots that pretended to be Komui's neck on their good days, and began rummaging around in a terribly painful manner.

"What the bloody hell! That bloody hurts stop it right bloody now this instant!" he whinged, to no avail.

"Good Lord, Chief, you're half petrified. No wonder you can't sleep."

Komui felt vaguely insulted by that, but couldn't say exactly why because the pain was scrambling even the skeleton crew of brain cells he currently had on duty. So instead, he settled for gritting his teeth and thinking of gory ways to annihilate the Earl of Millenium. The pain did not diminish, but he felt marginally better anyway.

But then, Reever began to move down the sides of his spine, and it felt wonderful, absolutely stellar, at least in comparison to the agony of a minute ago. This didn't hurt at all. In fact, it was very pleasant. Komui's lips tilted upwards and he leaned back slightly.

"That's it," Reever murmured approvingly. "They'll all be fine, Chief. They were well taught. So just ease up on yourself and keep yourself healthy. Lenalee would never forgive me if she came home and you were half dead of worry for her again. She hates that."

Reever's voice muted to a reassuring rumble against the back of Komui's head. Somehow he'd slid down to a nearly horizontal position with his head on Reever's stomach and the rest of him stretched out between his legs. Reever seemed to have somehow made his way to the center of the bed and was now propped up on the pillows.

Komui had never been more comfortable in his entire life, or at the very least, the last year or so.

That was unsettling, because he didn't want to be comfortable. Lenalee was out there risking her life, what right did he have to be here blissfully reclining in his ex-lover's arms? None! None whatsoever!

He attempted to sit up, only to be gently but firmly returned to his former position by a very strong pair of arms belonging to the aforementioned ex-lover. "Don't even try it, Chief."

"I'm not tired."

"Yes, you are. You're just too bloody stubborn to admit it."

Komui knew he'd lost. He'd lost half an hour ago when Reever had plucked him out of his office nest and tortured him mercilessly under the guise of giving him a 'massage.' Still, he felt compelled to fight back to the last word.

"Are you going to sing me to sleep, then?"

Reever was silent for a minute. "Do you want me to?"

"If I said yes, would you?"

"Probably."

"Then no."

To Komui's consternation, Reever started to sing anyway, a low quiet tune that didn't seem to have proper words. Probably a nonsensical translation from something German, Komui mused muzzily as the world began to blur around the edges.

"You do realize you're singing me a lullaby."

Reever nodded, thumping his chin softly against the top of Komui's head.

"I am not four years old."

The song wavered as Reever tried not to laugh but only partially succeeded, but he continued without missing a beat.

"...Fine then. Suit yourself."

Reever sang contentedly onwards into the dawn, until Komui lost the fight with his eyelids — it wasn't fair, they had the higher ground after all — and fell asleep.

And Reever sang... and somewhere, far away across the shadow-cloaked moors of his dreams, Lenalee bled.

**X**


End file.
